


Sam, You Little Shit

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Bottom Sam, Coming Untouched, Dirty Talk, Fluff, M/M, Spanking, Top Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-09-12 20:51:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9090268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Sam's trying to be a shit and Dean gets sick of it. About time his baby brother learned some manners. Spare the rod and spoil the child, they always say - Dean's sick of sparing the rod.





	1. Chapter 1

“I said stop it, Sam.”

 

“No! You never listen to me. I _told_ you the bus driver wasn’t the possessed one but you _still_ wanted to exorcise him. If you’d listened to me we could have saved that kid!”

 

Dean shot up from his spot at the table, pinning Sam to the wall. “Enough. I get it. Sit down. Shut up. And help me figure out who _is_ possessed.”

 

Sam’s shoulders slumped then, realizing he’d pushed a little too far. “I’m sorry, you’re right.”

 

Dean rolled his eyes. “Shut up. Come on.” He freed Sam and walked back to his spot.

 

Sam followed, sitting across from him. He reached his foot out, kicking Dean’s shin lightly under the table. “Come on, I said I was sorry.”

 

“And I said shut up. More than once,” Dean said, his eyes glued to the computer screen.

 

Sam sighed softly and opened his own computer, resigning himself to behaving and working on the case.

 

That lasted all of ten minutes. “Are you hungry?”

 

Dean rolled his eyes up to look at Sam slowly. “What’s wrong with you, Sam?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I mean it’s like someone injected you with caffeine. What the hell? Sit still.”

 

“You’re being dramatic. I’m hungry. Come on.” Sam slapped Dean on the arm and rose.

 

“Sam. Sit down.”

 

“No,” Sam’s brows furrowed. “What’s it to you if I go get food?”

 

“Case.”

 

“With no leads and no way of getting leads until we get access to the new body. Which we can’t do until the coroner’s office calls us back. So, I’m going to get food.”

 

“Mhm. In what vehicle?”

 

“The piece of junk we’ve been driving around since I was born.”

 

Dean shot up quick enough that Sam took a few steps back. “Excuse me?”

 

“What?”

 

“What’d you say about my car?”

 

“I called it a piece of junk. What? It is.”

 

“Take it back.” Dean took a threatening step toward Sam.

 

Sam rolled his eyes. “Dean, that car is like fifty years old. Even you have to admit she’d be in a junkyard if you didn’t obsess over her.”

 

“Sam, say another word and I swear—“

 

“What? You’ll spank me?”

 

Dean’s lips thinned into a line then and he shrugged. “Yeah,” He said before lunging.

 

Sam didn’t have time to react. Within seconds his six-foot frame was bent over the bed, Dean’s knee in his lower back as Dean wrestled with his jeans.

 

“What the Hell?” Sam shouted, trying to fight back. The way Dean had him pinned, however, made that a virtual impossibility. He swung his arm back, fingers grazing Dean’s cheek. He tried again, clawing at him.

 

Without skipping a beat, Dean grabbed his wrists, shifting enough to pin those under his leg as well. It was just a few more seconds before Dean had managed to push Sam’s jeans and boxers down under his ass.

 

“What are you doing?! You fuckin’ freak, let me up!”

 

“I don’t think Dad and I spanked your spoiled ass enough as a kid,” Dean said casually. “Time to fix that.”

 

“What? Dean, come on.”

 

Sam stilled completely when Dean’s hand came down on his bare left ass cheek. Hard. He began to struggle twice as hard then, doing everything he could to wriggle out of Dean’s grasp. But Dean had the upper hand here.

 

Twice more hard and fast on alternating cheeks. Dean was laughing, but Sam could barely hear it over the blood pumping in his ears, heating his face and body.

 

Another smack.

 

 _Oh shit._ Sam grunted against the mattress. He was getting hard. Fuck. Fuck fuck, _fuck._ This couldn’t be happening.

 

Another smack.

 

There was no hiding his erection now and Sam knew it.  He could feel the tip pressing against the rough comforter, trying to ease it’s way between Sam’s stomach and the edge of the mattress.

 

Another smack.

 

Sam’s cheeks on both ends had to be equally red by this point. He gasped into the mattress, his cock throbbing each time Dean’s hand came down against his bare ass. This was fucking happening. What was he going to do?

 

Another smack.

 

His cock dribbled precome onto the edge of the mattress and Sam’s hips jerked against Dean’s hand. God – please don’t let him notice.

 

Smack, smack, twice – harder than before.

 

And what – He was rubbing now. A gentle, circular motion; Dean was _rubbing_ his little brother’s reddened, welted ass.

 

Sam moaned involuntarily, hiding it in a cough and another fit of wiggles, acting like he was trying to escape. But what the hell would that solve? If he escaped now Dean would see his cock, hard and throbbing, and there’d be no hiding the reason why.

 

It wasn’t over. Another smack.

 

Sam closed his eyes and tried to focus on his breathing. On counting the smacks. On anything but the aching need between his legs and the treacherous thoughts in his brain.

 

He lost count of the smacks at some point, his cock becoming too much to ignore. So close. So close. It was a mantra to Sam now, every dribble of precome, every twitch, every throb of his balls.

 

Sam gave a low moan as his body gave in. He didn’t mean to. He barely realized it was happening until it’d already happened. His cock twitched, drooling streams of come down the bed and onto the floor as he came, untouched. Untouched save for his brother’s hand on his ass over and over.

 

“Sam?” Dean’s concerned voice pulled him out of his reverie. Pulled him back to reality. Shit.

 

“What?” Sam muttered, trying to sound pissed off and not fucked out.

 

“Did I hurt you?” The weight of Dean’s body was off him instantly, but Sam didn’t move. He didn’t dare to. He knew there was no hiding now. If there ever was.

 

“You didn’t hurt me,” Sam whispered. He found his feet and lifted himself upright, his cheeks burning darker when he looked down. His cock was still half hard, come covering the tip and running down his thighs where they’d been in the way of the spurts.

 

The side of the bed was covered as well, the dark comforter stained with white and clear streaks.

 

Silently, Sam pulled up his jeans, tucking his cock away. Only when he was fully zipped up did he look at Dean, his eyes wet with shameful tears. Dean’s gaze was on the mess on the bed and floor, his own cheeks mirroring the pink of Sam’s.

 

“I—I’ll clean that up,” Sam croaked. He rushed into the bathroom to get a washcloth. While in there, he heard the door open and shut, his heart sinking a little.

 

“Dean?” He called. When he emerged, the room was empty. Dean’s duffel was still there – that was a good sign. Sam heard the Impala roar to life and leave the parking lot.

 

Sam cleaned up his mess, tossing the events over and over in his head as he did. It could go either way. Dean could just be cooling off, thinking it over… Or Dean could think he was a freak and never want to see him again. At this point, Sam wasn’t sure which was worse.

 

He spent _years_ hiding this secret from Dean. Hell, he ran away to California to keep this quiet. And now – cat was out of the bag and the ball was in Dean’s court.

 

Sam crawled onto the bed and stared at the water stained ceiling. It was up to Dean to make the next move, and only time would tell what that move would be.


	2. The Next Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The long awaited 'sequel' to Sam, You Little Shit - Dean returns to the motel.

Dean didn’t return that night. Sam didn’t stop thinking about what he’d do if his brother was gone for good – the thought hurt more than losing Dad had. He couldn’t keep doing this without Dean.

 

The next morning, the door opening startled Sam from the fitful sleep he’d gotten into. He grabbed his knife from under his pillow, ready to attack whatever was in the motel room, until he opened his eyes and saw Dean standing there with two coffees and a paper bag from a nearby diner.

“Mornin’, Sammy.”

Sam’s jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth. He blinked a few times, not sure what to say. Was Dean just pretending it hadn’t happened? Should he bring it up? At a loss for words, he just sat up, rubbing his eyes. He snagged his jeans from the floor next to the bed and pulled them on while he was still under the covers before climbing out of the bed.

“Uh, morning,” He mumbled. Dean pushed a coffee cup into his hand when he came near enough.

“Did you get much sleep?” Dean worried. He took a few steps forward, heading for the untouched bed. Sam backed up quickly, not wanting to get close to Dean. Not after what he did – He was still sure Dean hated him.

“Yeah, I slept okay. Find uh, um—You?”

“Not really.”

“Oh…” Sam finally sat on the other bed, pulling his legs up. He played with the opening in the coffee cup, not sure what to say.

“Sam—“

“Dean—“

They both spoke at the same time, stopping and chuckling a little.

Dean waited a moment to see if Sam would speak. He nodded and cleared his throat. “I should’ve called last night.”

Sam shook his head. “No. You’re a grown up. Not like I control what you do. You had every right to stay out and hook up or—whatever.”

“You think I hooked up?”

Sam hesitated then shrugged. “I assumed.”

“Well you know what they say about assuming. Makes and ass outta you and me.”

Sam chuckled a little. “Well, if you didn’t hook up – what’d you do all night?”

“Drove around. Finally dozed off in the car around six… Woke up a little later and went to get us breakfast.”

“I’m sorry, Dean. I get it if you don’t wanna be around me after—“

“After you popped a boner from me spanking you?”

Sam lowered his head, his cheeks burning.

“Sam—Is there something you wanna tell me? About that?”

Sam sighed heavily, pulling his knees closer to his chest. When he didn’t answer, Dean rose, sitting on the bed next to him. Sam moved away, up to the headboard.

“Hey, I don’t have the plague. You can’t stay ten feet away from me, Sam – We live in the same car.”

“I didn’t know if you’d want me after—“

“You’re my brother, Sam. I just want the truth.”

Sam’s chin quivered. His shoulders rose in a weak shrug and in a soft voice, he whispered, “After I tell you the truth you won’t wanna be around me. I’m sick.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

Sam looked up at Dean, searching his face. “I—I’ve had a crush on you for years.”

Dean licked his lips, nodding. “How long?”

“Since I was about fourteen. Probably earlier, I just—I didn’t have a name for it until then.”

“Why did you keep it a secret?”

“Oh come on, Dean. That’s not something you tell someone. You’re my _brother_. For fuck’s sake, you raised me from infancy. I didn’t wanna lose you. So I ran. I hoped it’d go away.”

“You ran—Sam, you went to Stanford because of _me_?”

Sam’s solemn expression gave Dean the answer.

“Oh, Sam—“

“I mean part of it was Dad but, there was a part of me that hoped leaving would stop my feelings for you.”

“Guess that didn’t work.”

Sam shook his head. “It made it worse, honestly.”

“Sam, I really wish you’d told me.”

Sam shook his head again. “No. I—I couldn’t, Dean. I never wanted you to find out. What would you have done if I had told you? Huh? Called me a freak? Walked out on me, told Dad? I couldn’t risk it.”

“Or maybe… I would’ve given you what you wanted,” Dean whispered, hanging his head.

Sam scowled, staring at Dean’s profile.

“What?” He whispered.

Dean looked over at him. He slid closer, placing his hands on either side of Sam’s feet, trapping him. Sam tensed, not sure what to expect.

Without a word, Dean pulled the coffee out of Sam’s hand and set it on the night table. He shoved his knees apart and crawled up, putting his hands on the headboard on either side of Sam’s head. When their faces were inches apart, Sam shook his head.

“You don’t have to do this—Dean, I—“

“You can shut the fuck up, Sam. No one’s forcing me to do anything,” Dean whispered. He closed the gap between them, brushing their mouths together hesitantly before deepening the kiss, his tongue swiping out to graze Sam’s bottom lip.

Sam gasped and tried to pull away but Dean grabbed the back of his neck, kissing him with more determination. Sam gave in, sighing against Dean’s mouth. He began to kiss back, fisting Dean’s shirt. He tasted like coffee and salt, lips firm and slightly chapped. Sam could feel the scrape of his scruff, tickling his chin.

It was over much too soon. When Dean pulled back, Sam chased his mouth for a second, his eyes fluttering open to land on that green gaze he’d known as long as he could remember.

“Dean—“

“Sammy. Fuck, I wish you told me earlier,” Dean whispered, resting his forehead on Sam’s. “Maybe I wouldn’t have felt like such a damn freak all these years.”

“You—“

“Been wishing we weren’t brothers since I was little. I knew it was sick. I thought you’d hate me, Sammy, so I didn’t say anything. I just hoped it’d go away. Come to find out you’ve been hiding the same thing.”

Sam wrapped his arms around Dean’s middle, turning his head and nuzzling against the curve of Dean’s neck. He inhaled deeply, fisting Dean’s shirt, almost afraid this was just a dream. Dean’s fingers were steady as they stroked through his hair, but his breath was shaky, a slow quiver in shoulders and arms.

“What do we do now?” Sam whispered.

Dean pulled back and stood up, fixing his shirt. “We eat breakfast before it gets cold. Then we go talk to the coroner again.”

When Sam’s shoulders sagged, Dean grinned. He leaned down, brushing his lips against Sam’s ear.

“And when we finish this case, we’re gonna drive a few towns over. We’re gonna hole up in a motel for a week, and I’m gonna take what I’ve been wanting for so. Fucking. Long.”

Sam couldn’t stop the moan that bubbled up at Dean’s words. When their eyes met again, Dean’s pupils were wide with arousal.

“Dean—“

“Patience, Sammy. Come on, let’s eat. I’ll shower while you do.”

Sam’s still not sure how he managed to make his legs work at Dean’s command.

***

It was the school principal. When they figured it out, they weren’t sure how they’d missed it before.

True to his word, when they finished the exorcism and made sure the principal was okay, he packed up their bags and they drove. They drove for hours, until they reached a city far enough away that no one would notice them. They stopped and ate, the air between them tense with nerves and words unspoken.

When Sam tried to get out of the car at the hotel – a little nicer than Sam was used to them staying at – Dean grabbed his arm. “Wait here.”

“O—Okay.”

Dean smiled a little and got out. Sam watched him disappear into the main office, returning a few minutes later. He drove the car around to a wide parking area, maneuvering it into a corner space, tucked out of the view of the majority of the street and buildings. Sam looked over.

“Why so expensive?” Sam asked, still looking up at the building.

“Because tonight is special,” Dean said simply. He turned off the car and got out, walking to the trunk without another word. It took Sam a moment to follow him, grabbing his bags and letting Dean lead the way into the hotel and up a few flights of stairs. Dean pressed the key card into Sam’s hand when they reached the door, smirking. Sam’s eyes narrowed a bit – that was Dean’s mischievous expression. He opened the door, still looking at Dean as he walked in. When he finally turned around to survey the room, he stopped in his tracks, his duffel falling with a thunk to the floor.

Dean had rented the low scale equivalent of a honeymoon suite. Walls painted a lush red, a king-sized bed in the center that made Sam’s entire body long to nuzzle under the fluffy comforter, a fireplace to the side of a cozy looking loveseat. Sam looked back at Dean, his eyes wet with unshed tears.

“Dean—“

“Don’t start crying on me now, Sammy, you’ll ruin the moment.” Dean entered, kicking the door shut. He grabbed Sam’s duffel and set them both on the loveseat before walking back up to Sam. He snagged the room key and leaned up, dragging Sam into a gentle kiss.

“Go take a shower,” He whispered against his mouth. “I’ll get a fire going.”

Sam grinned, his cheeks burning a little. He pulled his jacket off, hanging it on the coat rack near the entrance. Taking one last look at the beautiful room, he slipped into the bathroom, closing the door. And just in time – tears began to roll down his cheeks as soon as he was safely inside the spacious room. It was a dream—It had to be. Everything was beautiful and—perfect.

After taking a moment to gather his emotions, Sam turned on the shower and began to strip. A knock sounded at the door.

“Don’t use all the hot water either,” Dean’s voice sounded through the wood. Sam bit his lip. He glanced down at himself, clad in only his boxers, before opening the door.

“Or you could just join me,” He offered.

Dean looked him up and down, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips. “You want me to?”

Sam shrugged. “If you want to. Door won’t be locked.” Sam shut the door again, his heart pounding.

 

Sam heard the door open while he was washing his hair. The curtain slid back and Dean smiled almost shyly. “Offer still open?” He asked.

Sam nodded, stepping farther into the shower to let Dean step in. He’d seen him naked plenty – just a side effect of living in each other’s pockets for two decades but his felt different. Dean looked almost shy under the hot spray, his head slightly lowered, cheeks pinking up as Sam drank in the features of his body.

“Glad you joined,” Sam finally said.

“I almost didn’t,” Dean admitted.

Sam stepped up to him and reached out, splaying a hand on his chest. “We’ve seen each other a million times.”

“But not like this. Not knowing—“

“I know.”

Dean looked up, meeting Sam’s gaze. He chuckled, reaching out and wiping a bit of shampoo lather off Sam’s forehead. Sam chuckled as well and leaned forward, kissing Dean for the first time since their kiss in the motel.

Dean reciprocated without hesitation, setting his hands on Sam’s forearms and stepping closer, their chests bumping together. Sam could feel Dean’s cock thickening against his thigh and a soft moan escaped. He stepped back, looking down at Dean.

“Come on, finish showering,” Dean whispered, stepping aside to grab the shampoo.

The rest of the shower was done in silence, a needy tension filling the air. Sam could feel Dean watching him and it made him warm from head to toe. He knew what was coming, it wasn’t like he was a virgin – but the thought that it was _Dean_ – he was both excited and apprehensive. What if he wasn’t good enough? If Dean didn’t like it? He tried to push the thoughts out of his mind as Dean shut off the water and they stepped out.

 

The fire was burning when Sam stepped out into the main room. It felt strange, wandering around the motel in the nude. What felt even stranger, however, was when Dean pressed against his back, hands sliding slowly up his still damp hips. He could feel Dean’s cock, thick and hard against his ass, and his mouth, warm and wet brushing feather light kisses along his shoulder blade.

“You want this, Sam?”

“Wanted it forever,” Sam whispered. He turned around, hissing when his own hardening cock nudged Dean’s hip.

Dean grunted, reaching down and stroking him twice. “Guess that woulda given me my answer anyway,” he teased. Sam rolled his eyes.

“Only you would joke with my cock in your hand.”

“Gonna make a joke with mine up your ass too,” Dean said. Sam’s stomach knotted at his words, his cheeks pinking up. Dean’s smirk grew.

“Not a virgin, are you?”

“No—Just—Still waiting to wake up, I guess.”

“You’re already awake, Sam. I promise.” He leaned forward, kissing Sam hard as if to prove it.

They walked to the bed, laughing into each other’s mouths when Sam would stumble or Dean would push him back too hard. When Sam’s knees hit the soft mattress, Dean set his hands on his chest and shoved him backwards, smirking when he landed on the bed with an ‘oof’.

“Pushy,” Sam mumbled, crawling up the bed and snuggling into the pillows. Dean crawled over him and kissed him again, letting his hips sink down to rub their cocks together lightly.

“You love it,” Dean mumbled against his mouth.

Sam reached around Dean, sliding his hands down his back to his ass before giving it a squeeze. Dean pulled back, shaking his ass a little. “Like what you feel?”

Sam shrugged. “I think there’s something I might like better.”

“Oh? That so?” Dean murmured, the smile fading from his face. It was replaced with pure lust, eyes darkening as he looked down at Sam. Sam bit his lip, nodding slowly.

“You won’t hurt me… I’ve waited for this for so long, I don’t wanna wait anymore.”

“Well I’m gonna prep you anyway, Sam. You aren’t just a quick fuck.”

Sam snorted. “So romantic.”

“As romantic as you’re gonna see me get.” Dean slid off the bed, walking to their bags and digging in his own. Sam tucked one hand behind his head, watching Dean.

“You rented us a honeymoon suite, Dean.”

“For one night. We’ll be back to our craptastic motel rooms tomorrow.”

“Still.”

“Yeah, yeah. Shut up,” Dean mumbled, not looking at Sam. He smiled a little – this _was_ as romantic as Dean would ever get – and it was perfect.

Dean didn’t waste time starting to prep Sam when he crawled back on the bed. Thick, trigger callused fingers pushed into Sam’s hole, but Dean kissed the grimace off his face, working him open slow and steady. Sam was writhing against Dean in minutes, moaning softly and begging for more. Dean complied, pressing in a third finger. Sam’s cock jerked between their stomachs, another dribble of precome smearing hot and sticky on their skin.

“Please—Dean—I’m ready,” Sam finally pleaded.

“You sure?”

Sam nodded, swallowing hard. He set his hands on Dean’s shoulders, leaning up and kissing him hard. “Are _you_ sure you wanna do this?”

“Never been more sure of anything in my life, Sammy,” Dean promised, offering a comforting smile.

He leaned back, slicking his cock. “Is bare okay? I can get a condom—“

“Bare’s perfect,” Sam assured him. Dean nodded and began to push in, slow and steady. Sam’s eyes fluttered shut. He reached down, spreading his ass open for Dean. He craned his neck back, baring his throat as a moan rumbled from his chest.

Dean filled him in all the right ways, stretching him open, his smooth tip pressing against Sam’s sensitive inner walls and sending knots of pleasure to his stomach.

Dean slumped over Sam when he was all the way in, struggling to keep his breathing steady. “You good?” He wondered.

“I’m perfect,” Sam whispered, barely able to catch his breath.

“Not too much?”

“Shut up, Dean.” Sam dragged him into a kiss, clenching around Dean gently as he did. Dean grunted, a visible shudder wracking his body.

“Keep doing that I won’t last,” He warned against Sam’s lips.

“Guess that just means we’ll have to go a round two.”

Dean pulled back, dragging his cock out slowly before driving back in. “Who says there won’t be a round two anyway? I promise that much.”

Sam grinned, gasping when Dean repeated the action. “Don’t fucking tease,” he warned.

“Right—You like it rough.” Dean shifted, slapping the side of Sam’s ass before grabbing a handful of his cheek and squeezing. Sam groaned, his cock jerking on his stomach once more.

“Next time I won’t go easy on you.”

“Who says I want you to go easy now?” Sam mumbled, his eyes shut lightly.

“Cause it’s our first time.”

Sam looked up at Dean, offering a gentle smile. He nodded in understanding.

Their bodies moved together in bed just as smoothly as they did during a hunt. Perfectly in sync, hands, legs, hips thrusting and grabbing, squeezing. Soft grunts, whispered names and moans – it seemed like Dean knew the perfect way to move, shift, speed up, slow down that Sam needed with barely a gasp from Sam. Sam clenched just right, grabbed Dean’s hips and ass, nails digging into his shoulders at just the right pressure that had Dean’s toes curling.

Sam groaned against Dean’s shoulder. “Please, Dean—“

“I got you, Sammy,” Dean whispered, close himself. He shifted a little to look down at Sam, driving in deeper. Sam’s back arched, his stomach knotting delightfully as Dean slammed against his prostate over and over. He reached between them and grabbed Sam's cock, giving it a few tugs before Sam shook his head. 

"Don't-- You don't need to."

Dean smirked. "What, think you can come untouched?" He panted. Sam grinned, pushing his hips down to get Dean deeper. 

"Know I can. Harder, Dean."

Dean shrugged a little and leaned back, bending Sam's legs up to drive into him. Sam screamed Dean's name, his cock jerking hard. With a strained cry he began to come, thick and hard, splashing onto his heaving stomach. Dean groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic as Sam's hole flexed and fluttered around him, each inward thrust giving another weak spurt of come. 

"Fuck, Sam--"

"That's what you're doing. Come on, Dean, fill me up," Sam begged. 

Dean shivered. "No pulling out?"

"Don't you dare. You're gonna come as deep as you can. You're gonna make me feel you tomorrow morning," Sam panted. Dean gave a sobbing moan, speeding up. Sam arched his back. 

"That's it, fuck your little brother," he panted. Dean's cock jerked hard enough to make him shout in surprise. He grinned then. "You like that."

Dean whimpered, nodding. His nails bit crescents into Sam's thighs as he fucked into him. 

Sam began to writhe under Dean's body, moaning for him. 

"Come on, big brother-- Not gonna break. Let it go," Sam pleaded. Dean's face scrunched into a grimace, a low moan rising from his throat. 

Sam began to meet Dean halfway, the wet sound of their sweat slicked skin echoing through the room. 

"Dean, please," Sam begged, "come for me."

Dean's head fell back as he came, shouting Sam's name. Sam continued to ride Dean as well as he could, milking as much come out of both of them as he was able.

Finally, Dean slumped over Sam, panting against his shoulder. “Holy shit.”

“You’re telling me,” Sam tried to joke, swallowing hard. “That was incredible.”

“You’ve got a damn dirty mouth, Sam,” Dean teased, rolling off Sam. They groaned at the same time, aching in all the right places.

“Learned it from you… I think we need another shower.”

Dean grunted, wiping his brow. “I’ll get a—A washcloth. Once I can move again.”

“I’ll get it,” Sam mumbled, trying to get out of bed. His knees wavered for a moment, causing him to grab the bedside stand. He glanced back to see Dean smirking. “Not a word.”

“I said nothing.”

“You were thinking it.”

“What? That I made you come so hard your legs stopped working? Am I wrong?” Sam glared.

“Asshole.”

“Yours is wrecked,” Dean shot back. Sam rolled his eyes deeply, shuffling to the bathroom at a much slower pace than a man his age should.

He returned a few minutes later, clean but still limping a little, and crawled back into bed. He cleaned Dean off while kissing him, surprised Dean hadn’t cracked another ‘no romance’ joke. When he was finished, Dean tossed the wash cloth onto the stand and pulled Sam close to him.

“I know I said round two but uh—“

“My ass can’t take another tonight,” Sam supplied and Dean laughed.

“You're welcome.”

“Screw you.”

“Hmm… Good idea. Tomorrow I’ll let you ride me,” Dean teased. Sam slapped his stomach, smirking when Dean grunted.

“No regrets?” He asked after a moment.

“No regrets. You?”

“That we didn’t do this sooner?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, guess that is one. But it’s the only one… You and me now, right Sam? Just you and me?”

Sam looked up at Dean and smiled softly.

“You and me.”

Dean pressed a kiss to his mouth before ruffling his hair. “Get to sleep, sasquatch.”

“G’night, Dean,” Sam mumbled, snuggling close to Dean.

“Yeah, yeah. Night, Sammy.”


End file.
